


Motivation

by salishseaselkie



Series: Of Lambs and Lions [9]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Love Letters, Romance, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 20:20:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5756971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salishseaselkie/pseuds/salishseaselkie





	Motivation

Niamh stood on the cliff of a small plateau in the Hissing Wastes, watching for the messenger that she was expecting to come with reports from Skyhold. It had been two weeks. He had to come.

Bull was sitting on a bench at the camp, sharpening his blade, and he looked at Varric. “Boss really wants those reports…or word from the one sending them.” He grinned knowingly at Varric, who winked.

He crooned, “Ice Queen’s got it bad. Even Hawke and Anders weren’t this anxious about each other. She’s like a mare in heat, yearning for her virile stallion…oh, that’s good. I should write that down.” Bull chuckled. Niamh said nothing, knowing that she and Cullen had been the talk of Skyhold for weeks. Cullen bristled at the attention, but she had promised him that they would become old news. She knew people. It wouldn’t last long, and they could go about their business without drawing unwanted attention – not that she really minded, but Cullen was so damn private, and he wanted his men to respect him. He did not want to be their source of gossip, and she could appreciate that.

A rider appeared on the crest of a dune a few miles off. Niamh perked up, and it was visibly evident to the others. Cassandra stood and joined her to look out at who approached. She exhaled loudly as she came to realize it was the messenger. “There he is. We can all relax and hope to hear on our progress here. Leliana surely has intelligence on what the Venatori hope to accomplish in this theater.” Varric clucked his tongue as he too stood to watch the incoming rider.

“Come now, Seeker, you know Lady Trevelyan is not interested in Leliana’s dry spy reports…” Cassandra snorted.

“Well, she _should_. How else are we supposed to smoke them out?” Niamh tuned them out. Cassandra had been only slightly less than vocal about her disapproval of their relationship. It was a distraction, and they had priorities that were bigger than some silly fling. However, when Niamh had caught her with her romance novels…the reluctant Seeker had been willing to concede to her that love was a necessary distraction. Still, Cassandra was not keen on hearing details about her colleagues’ trysts.

The rider was drawing closer, and when he came upon the camp, he stopped short of Niamh.

He declared, “Inquisitor! Messages from Skyhold!” She saluted as he dismounted. He handed her a large stack of parchment tied with some string.

She took them and extended an arm. “Please, you must have need for water and food. Help yourself to the rations.” He nodded graciously. Niamh then looked to her side. Varric was simpering at her. “Wh-what are you looking at me like that for?” Bull took the stack of reports from her arms before the dwarf could answer, and dumped them on a nearby table.

Sorting through them, he mumbled, “The ambassador… Red…Captain Rylen… ambassador… ambassador… Red…” He halted and stuck up a letter in the air. “Hah! A letter from the Commander himself!” He bent his head and gasped with an excess of drama. “Addressed to _Niamh…_ “ Varric chuckled.

He elbowed her in the ribs. "How informal…” Bull sniffed the parchment as Niamh swatted Varric away.

He cooed, “And it smells like flowers…” He grinned wolfishly at the visibly flustered Inquisitor. Niamh felt her skin flush as her stomach clutched. Bull had been especially vocal with his ribbing of her once it had gotten around that one of the scouts had found Cullen’s office strewn with their clothes the day after the first night in his loft. That was where she sympathized with Cullen’s reservations about publicizing their affair.

She lunged at Bull. “Give it here!” She snatched it out of his hand, scowling with averted eyes. The outside was stamped with the crest of the Inquisition. She clutched it to her chest. “I’m going to my tent.” She glared at Varric, who was grinning without restraint. “Do _not_ disturb me.” She ran to her tent, heart giddy and apprehensive to hear from her beloved.

Once under the cool cover of the canvas, she ripped her dagger through the wax seal and unfolded the parchment. Out fell a pressed dawn lotus blossom, much like those that had been in bloom when they’d visited Honnleath. She quickly bent to pick up and take a deep breath of its perfume as she read his letter. It read:

_Inquisitor Trevelyan,_

_It has come to my attention that you will have, by the time this letter reaches you, been away for approximately three weeks – this will have been three weeks in which you are past due for a thorough briefing. As Commander of the Inquisition, I find that it is my obligation to alert you to your error and inform you that this deserves reprimand. Upon your return, I am afraid I will have to order you to take a leave of absence for at least one week ~~to inspect the condition of my bed~~ to make up for this deficient behavior. Maker, that sounded much better in my head…_

_Still, I do miss you. Leliana tells me you have made much progress in the Wastes, yet I find myself yearning for your swift return. Our spymaster and ambassador both have accused me of being snappish with the messengers that bring your reports in - I promise, I only chased down **two**  messengers demanding to know if they’d misplaced any of your writings when they brought back your reports. Lady Montilyet will have you believing differently. Perhaps this will be a good lesson in patience._

_I did particularly enjoy your story of dropping a Venatori agent into the crevasse after he refused to hand over the location of his comrades. That Bull was able to hold him by his ankle over such a height and **not** get anything out of him…that is astounding. These people have an ardent zeal, I will give them that. All the more reason to put a stop to them._

_Please be safe. The Inquisition is as successful as its Herald, but the Inquisition aside, I do not know what I would do if harm should come to you. I have full faith in your abilities, but I do worry. You asked if I am sleeping at all: I do try, for you, but I would sleep better if you were here at Skyhold at all, if not next to me, keeping my mind at ease. Also, for someone so adept at ice magic, ~~you are good for keeping me~~  I find myself significantly warmer holding you…something I also miss. Andraste preserve me, I miss you so much._

_As aforementioned, when you return…well, I do not intend to release you back to your duties until a considerable and satisfactory period of time has passed. If that wasn’t already clear…_

_I love you, Niamh. Come home soon._

_Cullen_

She held the flower to her lips, grinning like a fool and missing her Commander. _Maker_ , she missed him.

She stowed the flower in the pages of her old draconology book, slung her staff across her back, and exited the tent, feeling a renewed sense of purpose.

She addressed her comrades, “Well, what are you all standing about for? We’ve work to do!” She mounted her forder and waited for the others to mount their horses as well – a dracolisk in the case of the Iron Bull. When they had all found their seats, she turned to the north to ride on at an amenable trot.

As they followed behind her, she heard Varric mutter to Cassandra, “See, Seeker? You can’t argue with his methods – Ice Queen is much more motivated now that she’s got Curly waiting for her back at Skyhold.” Cassandra harrumphed, and Niamh couldn’t help but chuckle.

As they followed the mountains up to where they’d last seen the Venatori, Niamh smiled to herself.  _Soon_ , she thought. _Soon I’ll be home with you._ And that thought beat in her heart, keeping her pushing forward, all the way back to Skyhold.


End file.
